


Thornfield Hall

by fanserviced



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Switch, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gothic Romance, Infidelity, Jane Eyre!AU, M/M, Medical Kink, Rimming, Smut, Wolf!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9095074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanserviced/pseuds/fanserviced
Summary: Do Kyungsoo leaves school on the morning of his nineteenth birthday to serve as caretaker of a young ward of Lord Kim Jongin. Once in the manor, strange things begin to occur.





	1. Introduction

Reader, what you must understand is that in my first eighteen years on this earth, I had little experience with the world. I, Do Kyungsoo, had been an orphan since infancy, left to the care of my indifferent relatives and then sent to an even more indifferent school. It was hot in summer and cold in winter, lacking in basic supplies and nourishing food year-round. I slept in a room with 20 of my schoolmates and watched their numbers dwindle due to disease and broken spirits.

That I left Lowood School on the morning of my nineteenth birthday with my body, if not mind intact could be considered a miracle. Since graduating the year before, I had assisted with the care of the younger children in the nursery. I was sad to leave them, but the world outside beckoned. I was free at last, having finally come of age according to the traditions of our country.

Following the directions in a letter I had received from Mr. Kim Junmyeon, the man I believed to be my employer, I passed Bukhan Mountain and the city of Seoul, alighting from the post cart that served as my conveyance when I set my sights on the farming village of Gangnam-Gu.

As the sun sank below the horizon and lit up the snowy landscape, I frantically searched for someone to row me across the Han River for a few coins, but the boats were pulled up along the shore and huts that sheltered ferry workers between passengers appeared empty.

Eventually an old man bundled up and walking with a tall stick passed by and gestured to the river. “Come back when the river thaws or cross it on foot, little one!” he yelled while laughing.

I eyed the ice warily, unsure if this was a joke or sound advice. As darkness crept from the trees at the horizon toward me, signaling that the city-wide curfew approached, I shuffled onto the snow-covered ice. I half expected it to crack at my first footstep, but it appeared solid enough. Trudging with my earthly possessions on my back, I began to walk faster in hopes of reaching the other side without incident.

About midway through the crossing I would have given up any freedom, any hope for the future in order to return to the dilapidated walls of Lowood. To my left galloped a — I could hardly believe the sight — a wolf. I recognized the beast, having seen one in the north while on a school trip, but I had never heard of them living south of Mount Paektu. I froze, watching the wolf approach, its black fur rippling in the wind.

Despite my entreaties to the heavens, I was not whisked back to my cold dormitory bed, but found myself in the path of the running beast. I stumbled forward, losing my footing, the weight of my pack bringing me down hard. The black wolf then appeared to see me, changing course at the last moment, but tangling its foot in my worn pack and skidding on the ice until it collided with a beached boat. The wolf limped for a moment as it gained footing on the ice once more and then galloped away, one leg clearly injured.

I scurried to the far shore on my hands and knees, rushing through the snow until I saw the lights blazing in the grand manor that was to become my new home, not noticing that a full moon lit up the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyungsoo is 18 according to Western age reckoning, which is 19 in Korea.
> 
> Due to laziness, I've combined a Korean setting with English names of houses and schools from Jane Eyre. The house style is English tbh because I don't feel like researching traditional Korean house plans when we all know we're here for the porn.
> 
> This is written in first person because Jane Eyre is written in first person (and also I feel like the sober, introspective voice is very Ksoo). It uses cringey words like "member" because it makes sense for the character.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon arriving at the manor I rang the bell, as instructed by Mr. Kim in his letter. I wondered what sort of man he was and whether he would be an amiable or foreboding master. I wondered about the child I was to teach: was it a boy or girl? How old were they? In retrospect, my rush to leave Lowood and the slowness of communication in those times resulted in me accepting a post I little understood in the hopes of leaving a place I knew to be bad.

Mr. Kim opened the door himself, greeting me with a warm smile.

“Mr. Do Kyungsoo? We’ve been expecting you,” he said, showing me inside. “You’ll have to forgive the mess in the house: little Taerin, your charge, had a temper tantrum this evening and we men have no idea how to handle a toddler, much less a little girl.”

He looked at me.

“Not that you’re not a man!” he exclaimed. “It’s just that we men _here_ are unfamiliar with how to properly raise young ones. I’m sure that you will know exactly how to care for her; your references were nothing short of stellar.”

His face fell after looking at my expression.

“You’re obviously a man. I mean, only a man could have eyebrows so manly,” he said.

I patted my eyebrows, concerned that they had offended.

“Welcome to Thornfield Hall. I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” he said weakly.

I smiled while glancing about the foyer and began to remove the layers that had kept me somewhat warm on the journey. Mr. Kim’s pleasant expression returned as he collected my things.

“Mr. Kim, please do not feel obliged to care for my garments,” I said. “Amiable as you are, I do not think it right for my employer to concern himself with my things. I am perfectly capable of conveying them to my quarters if a servant can just lead the way.”

Mr. Kim turned and began to laugh in full force.

“Would that it were! I wish I were the master of this fine house and land!” he said. “I am the household manager, no more. Your master is also Kim, but Lord Kim of another family line.” Lowering his voice he said, “the line that once caused many troubles at court, but has since retreated to live comfortably and at peace away from politics.”

I felt my mouth form an O as I struggled to remember if a Kim family patriarch had been the Right Minister or Left Minister during the last struggle with the King. I hoped that the retreat from politics was truly permanent for the sake of all in Lord Kim’s household, including myself.

“You’ll have to excuse my poor manners, Mr. Do,” he said. “We have so few visitors in winter that I barely know how to receive someone. Can I offer you tea?”

“Perhaps I should remove these wet garments from the foyer so as not to track water on the floor, sir,” I said.

Mr. Kim clapped his hands. “Of course, of course,” he said. “This is exactly what I mean about poor manners, my apologies. If you’ll just wait a moment I’ll summon Tao, our servant, to carry up your things and I’ll show you to your quarters.”

After leaving my pack and outer garments for the servant, Mr. Kim led me up to the second floor of the house, where I was to reside.

“Here, next to my room, is your apartment,” he said while opening the door and allowing me to pass. “You have a writing desk there near the window looking out on the fields, a four-poster bed with curtains that you may draw for warmth, and a fireplace that Tao will tend in the morning and evening. I’m afraid that the view isn’t terribly inspiring at this time of year, but it’s quite pleasant to look across at the Han and city in the distance in summer when the greenery returns.”

I looked around the room with wonder. My first room of my own. The furniture was a solid sort, nothing too decorative or fashionable, but steady, true, and tested. The writing desk already had a supply of paper, a pen, and ink. I hoped that my charge would prove to be a good or at least mouldable child so that I could live in this place forever.

There appeared a commotion in the doorway to my room — my room! what a world! — as a young man appeared bearing my things with a small girl in tow.

“Ahh, Mr. Do,” said Mr. Kim, “this is Tao, our servant. He lives above us on the third floor and if you find yourself in need of his services outside of ordinary scheduled things like tending the fireplace, please submit the request through me.”

Tao and I exchanged bows. I noticed that while he bowed lower than me out of deference, his face showed strain on the way up, as if he were in pain from some invisible injury. He departed the room thereafter with no small amount of grace despite the injury.

Mr. Kim then brought around the little girl, who seemed to be no more than three.

“This is Miss Jung Taerin, ward of Lord Kim,” said Mr. Kim. “Her nurse returned to America rather suddenly last month, and she has been without proper care since then, so please forgive her and us if she struggles to adapt to your presence at first.”

I dropped to the floor and looked at the child with a small smile, pulling a little bear I had made at Lowood from my pack.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes a few days for her to be in the same room with you without wailing, as she did with us,” said Mr. Kim while poking at the fire to increase the temperature of the room. “She’s a funny little one.”

The child hovered back just a moment before her eyes seemed to slightly unfocus. And then she ran to me, leaping into my chest, and burying her nose in my neck. The bear forgotten on the floor, it seemed that I was to be the bear. All fear of a difficult acclimation behind me, I lifted up the child and cradled her while she huffed at my skin, seeming to nearly purr with contentment.

I could not have expected such a warm welcome, but I was pleased that our chemistry seemed to agree.

“It’s remarkable to see a child in your arms, Mr. Do,” said Mr. Kim, “since you yourself seemed to be nearly the same age as Taerin until she appeared and proved me wrong.”

“I hope my age is not a disappointment, sir,” I said, “I made note of it in my letter, as did my references, and I am now of age.”

“Here I’ve gone and said the wrong thing again,” laughed Mr. Kim. “I didn’t mean anything by the remark, my apologies. It will be interesting to have a younger man in the house. The years pass by and we all somehow seem to get older.”

“Is the master of the house not a young man?” I asked. “And what of the mistress of Thornfield, Miss Taerin’s mother? What sort of people are they?”

Mr. Kim winced and held out his palms. “Taerin’s mother is in America, pursuing a career on the stage. Miss Taerin is merely a ward of Lord Kim; he brought her to Korea with her nurse — the woman recently departed from Thornfield — a few months ago. As for Lord Kim, he is a young man, but not as young as he used to be. He has the same sadness in his eyes that you do, I recognize it.”

Mr. Kim clapped his hands together and held out his arms to Taerin. “We must go now, let go of Mr. Do so he may arrange his things and enjoy the tea I’ll bring up for him.”

The child clung to me and sniffled, but eventually relented and allowed herself to be awkwardly shifted to Mr. Kim.

“It’s a most amazing coincidence that you arrive today for Lord Kim has come back to Thornfield after many months away,” he said. “I would introduce you to him now, but he’s currently being attended by Tao after a fall from his horse not far from here. He should be fine tomorrow morning. I hope you rest well tonight after the long journey. If you need anything I’m right next door.”

Turning in the doorframe carefully so as not to set off a struggle with Taerin he said, “Sometimes the top of the house settles and the wind whistles through the rather incomplete third floor. It’s best to stay away from there. But there’s nothing to worry about.”

I bowed goodnight and wondered why I would ever have been worried about the sort of noises any old manor could be expected to make.


	3. Chapter 3

The following days passed quickly as I learned more of Taerin’s habits and needs. More than two years old, but less than three, she lagged behind other children her age in terms of speech and behavior. I wondered if it was due to a permanent condition, but it soon came to be clear that it was the result of neglect.

It was as if she had been raised by wolves, as the saying goes. Outside of her determined clinging to me, she seemed most comfortable in the company of three poodles owned by my master that were allowed to run about the house as they wished. She scooted and toddled in their company down halls whenever she managed to escape the nursery where we spent much of our days. On one occasion I found her trading playful bites with Monggu and determined that the child was in desperate need of human socialization or else she would never thrive in society.

The first order of business was the cutting of her hair. Judging by the uneven length and wispiness toward the ends, it seemed that it had not ever been cut. In the event Taerin had had doting parents and an army of nurses keen on keeping her clean, this would not have been a problem, but the confused care of Mr. Kim and Tao in the last month had resulted in tangled ends and — dare I say it — bits of food and saliva caked in her hair from where she had chewed on it in absence of a canine playmate.

I gave the child a drumstick stripped of most meat upon which she might chew while I cut her hair. She dug in and soon had a slightly unfocused look of contentment, giving me time to plan my strategy. I took shears to the length and cut out the truly difficult tangles. Next I applied water and soap to loosen the milder snarls with the aid of a comb. I felt that my mother’s talent, for she had been a hairdresser, must have been passed along to me although I did not have the chance to see her work before her untimely death.

By the time Taerin had bit through the bone so decidedly as to crack it open and start licking marrow from inside, I had given the child a haircut with bangs. In my enthusiasm, I had cut her hair quite short, as was my style in those days. I allowed her to chew on a doll in order to sit still just a bit longer so I might fasten a ribbon in her hair.

At the end, she looked like a precious — if slightly deranged on account of the teething — doll.

While attempting to potty train Taerin later the same afternoon, Mr. Kim visited the nursery and dropped off another stack of clean diapers returned to the manor by the woman who handled the washing down in the village.

“Lord Kim requests that you and Miss Taerin take tea with him this evening,” he said while stacking the fluffy white cloths high next to her crib.

“What time shall we go down?” I asked.

“Six in the evening. Do you own anything that isn’t black?” asked Mr. Kim.

I looked down at my usual, sober garb brought from Lowood. “I have one suit that is lighter black,” I said.

“I adhere to a rule of TPO when dressing,” he said. “Time, place, and occasion. This instance calls for a silk tie, I think. You may stop by my chambers before going down to borrow one.”

I bowed in thanks, wondering what sort of night I was to pass if fancier clothes were required.

At six, now wearing the borrowed tie, I walked with my charge into the library to meet my master. A fire roared in the fireplace and candles burned around the room. It smelled of pipe tobacco, books, and leather pierced by the sharp cleanness of beeswax candles. The three poodles played together on the hearth, a tempting sight for their human playmate. Taerin toddled over to flop on them until I pulled her back for fear of embers popping out and burning her golden skin.

“Junmyeon, please look after the child so I might get to know her caretaker,” said a voice I’d never heard before.

I lowered my gaze, unwilling to intrude on my master.

“Mr. Do Kyungsoo? Please have a seat right here where I can see you. I’m unable to move due to an accident I suffered on the way here; my horse fell in the lane,” he said while gesturing to the leg propped on the sofa.

I took the armchair across from him and regarded his face. He was clean shaven, but since much of the day had passed, he now had dark stubble on his upper lip and chin. His eyes were puffy with faint lines underneath, giving his otherwise boyish face a look of world-weary exhaustion. His tie was loosened but not loose, as if tugged from his neck in a moment of frustration with the stream of visitors that had come to see him to pay their respects and rent. A hint of silver dusted his temples, which on another man might look distinguished, but gave him a dissolute air when combined with the posture that his injured leg required and glass of liquor in his hand.

“You are a quiet one, are you not?” he said. “Junmyeon tells me that you come from Lowood School. I’m surprised that they allowed you to leave, given that you look like a pupil.”

“I am sorry if my look offends, sir,” I said. “I can assure you that I am of age.”

“When did you enter Lowood?” he asked.

“At age four,” I said. “I stayed for fifteen years.”

“Then you are but nineteen,” he said. “So long in that institution explains why you have the look of another world, your hungry, large eyes and tiny frame.” Shifting in his chair he said, “what does a nineteen-year-old man know of raising children and teaching them?”

“I have been caring for children almost since entering Lowood, sir,” I said. “The school does not have many resources as it is a charitable institution, so we all aided in the care of those younger than us. I also served as a teacher and am versed in English and drawing.”

“Drop the sir, we have no use for that in this household,” he said. “Do you play the piano and sing?” he asked.

“A little,” I said.

“A little,” he scoffed. “They all say that. Go into the room next door and play something.”

I walked into the drawing room, took a seat at the piano forte, and opened the lid. I sang a song I knew well and had sung recently, finding it one of the few that would put Taerin to sleep even in moments of feverish teething.

_Geuttan malhalgeomyeon kkeojyeo_  
_Pillyohadamyeon nal bakkwo_  
_Geunyeol jeolttae bonaelsuga eobseo_

_Geobuhalsu eobsi gangnyeolhan_  
_I neukkime ppajyeobeoryeo nareul nwasseo_  
_Nan dansunhange joha_  
_Nae soge sumeoitdeon geosi jigeum nuntteosseo_

_Geobuhalsu eobsi gangnyeolhan_  
_I neukkime ppajyeobeoryeo nareul nwasseo_

“Enough,” he said over the music. “Such a nonsense song could obscure even the greatest talent, where do these monstrosities come from? Come back here.”

I took my place in the armchair again.

“Junmyeon showed me your drawing portfolio,” he said. “Girls with frilly bows in their hair and wolves? The work was fine, but the subject matter, one would think that you’re—”

“Nineteen?” I interjected.

He laughed without the expression reaching his tired eyes, a hint of delight, but nothing that shook his soul. “Yes, I suppose we’re allowed some fantasies when we’re young.”

He looked at the clock over the fireplace and gestured to it. “Why are you keeping the child up so late, caretaker?” he asked.

“My apologies, sir, I mean—” I stumbled. “I will take her now if you grant us leave.”

Mr. Kim walked Taerin over to give Lord Kim a goodnight kiss.

“I have no use for kisses from children, I find tiny humans something of a bother until they can talk, reason, and hunt,” he said, his eyes sparkling. "Though I will make an exception for Mr. Do here."

“I’ll take her until she is ready to take up her place at Sungkyunkwan University, at which point Lord Kim might deign to give her some affection,” I said, still unhappy about the state in which I found her hair.

I hefted a drowsy Taerin into my arms, where she sleepily grabbed at the poodles below.

“Goodnight,” I said, bowing carefully.

“Goodnight Mr. Do,” he said. “Welcome to Thornfield Hall.”

After making my way to the nursery and putting Taerin to sleep, I encountered Mr. Kim on the way back to my room.

“I hope your chat with Lord Kim went well,” he said. “You’ll have to make allowances for him, he’s been through a lot in this life and was not always so direct.”

“I did not find his manner disturbing,” I said, “rest assured. Having grown up at Lowood, it would take a lot more than an honest and blunt man to shock me.”

I returned to my chambers and removed the borrowed tie and my black suit. I paused to examine my face in the mirror while washing up, wondering what sort of sadness I’d need to experience for my countenance to appear as haggard as that of my employer.

So consumed was I with my shred of vanity that I did not hear the scraping overhead.


	4. Chapter 4

Lord Kim summoned me to the library the next night. I didn’t expect to be asked to return so soon, and I worried that I might have offended him with my challenges to his queries.

Upon entering the library I bowed and attempted to take a chair some distance away.

“That will not do, Mr. Do,” he said. “Take this chair next to mine.”

I gathered my wits and walked forward, suppressing the urge to resign my position and run back to Lowood immediately. I looked over to where Taerin was playing with Kim Junmyeon and thought of the terrible state of her hair when I arrived. I took my seat.

“Do you like to play drawing room games?” asked Lord Kim.

“Such as card games?” I asked. “I’m afraid that I’m unfamiliar with the rules of such games as they were not permitted at Lowood.”

“No, I’m thinking something a bit less scandalous for our young caretaker,” said Lord Kim, staring into the fire. “I considered a game in which we draw objects and animals, and then force the other to guess the word, but I fear you would be at a dreadful disadvantage since you can draw and my skills are quite limited.”

“Are you making fun of me?” I asked, quite grave.

“Not at all,” he said, turning to me. “Are you used to being made fun of?”

I drew back into my chair, afraid that I’d been found out and would be subjected to the sort of ridicule that had plagued me at school.

He correctly took my silence as an answer to his question.

“What did you children do at school in the evenings around the fire?” he asked.

“The younger children went to bed early, but we older children were permitted stay up a bit later and do piece work for local merchants, mainly sewing, in order to earn pocket money,” I said.

“I imagine you staying up as late as possible to do the work and then rising early to care for the younger inmates of that house of horrors, is that not right?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said, accidentally using his honorific again.

“No wonder you’re such a tiny, otherworldly creature,” he said. “Working at all hours to scrape together change when you should have been sleeping, I—”

He quickly rose, walking with care due to his injury, and stood near the fireplace. It was a great fireplace common in those sorts of manors built two hundred years before, tall as Lord Kim, and wide enough that we both could have fit inside if laid end to end.

I studied his appearance. He was tall, but not too tall, just the right height to give a commanding effect. His skin glowed in the fire, the rich color enhanced by the light of the flames that roared so near him. The line of his body was pleasing, making him look taller than he actually was. Yet his face retained the look of sad exhaustion that it had when I first met him.

“You study me,” he said. “Do you find me handsome?”

“No,” I said without malice, but decisively.

He broke into a laugh so boisterous that he shifted weight to his injured leg and wobbled dangerously near the flames.

I flew from my chair to his injured side and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and my arm around his waist in order to help him back to his seat. He placed his weight against me as we slowly walked.

“Did you fear for my life?” he asked as the warmth of his body transferred to me through our garments.

“I saw that my master might need aid and so I gave it,” I said, fearful of walking into a trap.

“What would you do if I had fallen into the fire?” he asked. “Would you wade in to fetch me out?”

“I do not see the point of allowing the flames to consume two lives,” I said, quite honestly. “I would seek help and use some instrument to attempt to dislodge you from the fire.”

Leaning down to my level as I helped him into his chair he said, “You’re right. It would be wrong to throw away two lives just because fate has wronged me.”

“Please stay back from the fire, Lord Kim,” I said. “No need to tempt fate. You may not be handsome, but you are still a child of god that can be saved from the flames by his grace.” 

How I repeated a formula I had heard so many times at school in a situation that seemed inappropriate was beyond me, but it started a conversation that would change the course of my life.

“What of your grace?” he asked. “Do you think me worth saving?”

“It is not in my power to save anyone,” I said.

“Do you believe that beasts can be saved?” he asked, gesturing to the three poodles.

“If beasts have the ability to repent then they might be saved. I fear that the poodles mainly think of what sort of food they can track down outside of mealtimes, giving little space to the thought of redemption,” I said. “Humans who have lost their way, there is certainly hope for them, provided that there is true repentance.”

“What if I don’t want to repent and prefer to live in pleasure now?” he asked.

“It would only sting you,” I said.

“What do you know of the sweet sting?” he asked. “No doubt you know nothing of it and that is why you focus on redemption. No matter, I am now hard and tough, but I would like to be re-transformed from beast into a man.”

“Within each human is the grace to make that change possible,” I said.

“Would you lend me some of your grace if I need it?” he asked.

“As long as you keep your promise to stay back from the fire,” I replied.

His eyes sparkled as he smiled and I saw a hint of the man he once was before hardness and exhaustion set in.

I studied the pattern of the carpet.

“We should play a game before my ward needs her caretaker back from me,” said Lord Kim.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you due to knowing no games,” I said.

“One does not need to know games to please me,” he said, picking up a book that sat nearby.

He showed me the cover so I might read the title. The work was called _Q &A to Me_. He opened to a middle page and flipped through until settling on one.

“What will you be like in 30 years?” he asked.

“30 years seems so distant,” I said. “I suppose I’d like to be a good man, a good father. A hard worker. Beyond that I cannot see.”

“The scope of your universe is so small while your eyes are so large,” he said.

He shifted in his seat, taking a drink from a long-forgotten glass of wine.

“And now you may ask me a question. I’d let you use the book, but I suspect that someone as clever as you does not require such an aid,” he said.

My cheeks burned at the compliment, perhaps the kindest thing anyone had said to me in my life up until that point. In a moment of awkwardness I managed to repay the kindness with enough water to douse the whole fire in the fireplace.

“What is your relationship to Taerin?” I asked.

He moved back in the chair and his face was shrouded by shadows.

“Taerin’s mother is a music hall singer and actress on the stage in America. She was my mistress some years ago,” he said.

“I’m sorry that I asked, sir,” I said hurriedly, “I did not mean—”

“No, you have every right to know,” he said. “In fact, you may wish to know so that you may leave this house, given the sin that resides within.”

He continued: “I was deeply in love with Taerin’s mother and one night while secretly waiting for her to return to the apartment I had procured for her, I caught her in a romantic embrace with another star of her show.”

My heart sank, doubly regretting my question.

“I left America and went to Paris and then Berlin and then Tokyo. By the time I returned to Thornfield, she had sent this child to me with her nurse, claiming that it is mine and saying that she lacked the ability to raise it,” he said. “I see no resemblance and doubt her words, but I find myself unable to abandon it to an institution like Lowood.”

I regarded the child and Lord Kim for some minutes, futilely attempting to find similarity.

“It’s often the case with children as young as Taerin that they don’t resemble either parent,” I said.

“I hope for her sake that she is not mine,” he said.

“Her life would be much better if she were,” I said.

He shifted into the light once more. “Do you believe that the sins of the parent taint the child?” he asked.

I regarded my hands, rather feeling like I was undergoing an exam at school again.

“Since Adam and Eve, sin has been passed down from one generation to another,” I said. “But the mechanism for erasing that sin is within each of us. In common parlance, it is possible to lift the curse.”

His eyes connected with mine and seemed to glow red in the light of the fire.

“Someday when I ask you that question again I hope you will give the same answer,” he said.

Soon, a month had passed since I arrived at Thornfield. One night while holding Taerin to take her to bed as she teethed aggressively on my shoulder, Lord Kim caught my hand in the doorway, dropping it once I turned to him. 

Light from the full moon revealed a glowing and lively face that I could not have imagined possible when we first met. Gone were the lines and puffiness, replaced by joyful, expressive eyes and a warm smile. His stubble still appeared at night, but his coiffure now made his silver temples look rakish and dashing.

“Mr. Do,” he said. “Don’t you think it time to drop titles and formalities? We’re both free-thinking men who have no use for the strictures of distinction based on age and born rank.”

Unprepared, I nodded quickly and tried to rush upstairs. The magnitude of the request was not lost on me. A man born to everything and significantly older than me had requested that we set all of that aside in favor of conversing as equals. 

I remembered once out in the hall to bow and wish him goodnight.

“Goodnight Lord—” I said, catching myself, “Jongin.”

“Goodnight Kyungsoo,” he said softly.

After tucking the child into bed I returned to my room. I noticed that my undergarments were damp, surprising given the time of year. I attributed it to the small, but persistent fever I had been fighting since the morning and hoped I would not succumb to a full cold.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke the next morning pressing the heel of my hand into my groin while lying in what felt like a pool of blood. My heart began to race and I held in a scream as I flipped back the covers to find the source of the fluid so I might estimate how much time I had before death would take me to my parents, rest their souls.

I was relieved to find that it was clear, suggesting that I might not die immediately. My heart raced again when I considered the logical sources. I had never been one to wet the bed as a child, even when I was little, so it seemed fantastical that I might have acquired the habit as an adult. Yet I reasoned that the pressure on my most intimate areas — for what reason I did not know — might have caused my bladder to empty itself.

Yet the fluid was clear, viscous, and did not smell like urine at all. To confirm my suspicions I tasted it and found it to be rather sweet. I wondered if one of the kitchen staff had come upstairs in the night to pour honey water on me as some sort of joke.

It was then that I remembered the fever that had been growing since the previous morning and state of my undergarments the night before. I reasoned that I must be sweating strangely while fighting off an illness. I cleaned myself up and fashioned a sort of absorbent pad to protect my trousers from one of Taerin’s many cloth diapers. I resolved to ask Kim Junmyeon if a peculiar sickness was spreading in this district over breakfast.

I walked down to the kitchen, where I might procure breakfast for myself and Taerin and found the place bustling with activity and filled with new faces.

“Could you take Lord Kim his meal?” asked Kim Junmyeon. “He’s unwell and won’t come down, but I need all of the staff to prepare for the party that is arriving later today.”

I gathered the tray from a holder on the sideboard.

“Who is coming?” I asked.

“A number of fashionable people from the North,” he said, “including Mr. Oh Sehun.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“You’ll know him when you see him,” he said. “Tall, broad shoulders, blond hair. Dances like a god. It is said that he and Lord Kim — ahh, I chatter too much, take the tray to Lord Kim before his porridge grows cold.”

I turned carefully with the tray so I might carry it upstairs. 

Upon reaching my master’s bedroom door I raised my hand to knock.

“Come in,” said Lord Kim.

“It is I, your servant Do Kyungsoo,” I said, uncertain if he was expecting someone else.

“Yes, I know, I heard you, come in,” he said. How he heard me when I could barely hear myself was unclear at that time.

I walked into his room and found it in disarray. Never having seen the inside of my master’s chamber before, I was unable to assess the extent of the damage, but it seemed that the curtains had been ripped down and a couch overturned. The fire lay unlit and burnt logs were scattered on the hearth.

“There was a small fire last night,” he said, “don’t mind the filth.”

“Are you alright, sir?” I asked.

“What did we agree about names and titles?” he said.

I paused at the edge of his bed and looked for a place to put the tray. I thought he might take it on his lap, but seeing him gave me pause. His hair was disheveled and his face was shiny as if he had just recovered from a terrible fever.

“Are you quite alright, Jongin?” I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled, his true self showing through the shell of exhaustion.

“I’m alright now,” he said.

“Where shall I put your tray?” I asked.

“Usually when one brings a tray to a sick person, one brings a tray holder,” he said. “Have you no holder?”

I looked at the tray and remembered the holder I had lifted it from.

“I can go get it, my apologies,” I said, turning away.

“Halt! I’m hungry now. You’ll have to serve as my tray holder,” he said.

I turned back and his eyes formed crescents as he laughed.

“Take a seat on the bed and hold my tray. I’m sick and hungry, so you’ll have to feed me,” he said.

I arranged myself on the bed with the tray in my lap.

“Is that congee?” he asked. “Good, just what I need this fine morning.”

He opened his mouth.

“Feed me,” he said, closing his mouth only slightly for the words to be heard.

I scooped some of the rice porridge into the spoon and brought it to his mouth. He accepted it and thus we continued until the congee was half gone.

“Are you quite alright?” I asked. “I never expected that I would feed you like I feed Taerin. Is it wise to have guests at Thornfield while you are unwell?”

“I’m much better now,” he said. “Hand me that hallabong so I might peel it.”

I gave him the fruit, a delicacy shipped specially from Jeju for his pleasure.

He used the small knife from the tray to peel back the skin and separate the sections.

“When I was still quite young, even before you were born,” he said, “my family clan was at odds with the king and lost spectacularly. In the end, my father faced a choice: stay at court and bear a curse on our whole household down to the smallest serving child and all their descendants or go into exile and live on Jeju-do.”

What did your father choose?” I asked.

“Jeju,” he said. “At least for a few years. But power called out to him and here we are.”

At that moment, his eyes met mine and he seemed far too close on that bed. Anything less than a million miles apart seemed too close for some reason. A sadness stretching back into time and forward into the unknown gripped my heart. I couldn’t help but feel this house was doomed to pain and misery.

“Have you tasted hallabong?” he asked.

I nodded no. He held a piece out to me.

“You should taste it. I know you don’t usually enjoy things that give pleasure, but this is quite divine,” he said.

“I do not wish to deprive you of—” I said.

“Hush,” he said, placing the segment of fruit in my mouth to silence me.

I chewed and savored the treat. He smiled as he watched my reaction.

“Another,” he said, holding the segment up. My hands were busy steadying the tray, so I had no way of taking it from him.

“I shouldn’t take—” I said, and he did it again.

I found it difficult to resist him.

“Allow me to care for—take care of you. Just in this room. For a few minutes,” he said.

“I’ll permit it if it brings you joy,” I said.

He nodded slightly and brought the fruit to my lips. I opened them and he slid the piece inside.

“You’re messy,” he said, “the juice is getting on your face.”

I felt in my pocket for my handkerchief but soon felt him bring his napkin to my lips and he wiped my face for me.

“Will you peel some for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m glad that you finally see sense. Your servant should look after your needs, not the other way around.”

I peeled the fruit as I had seen him do, but the peel proved awkward against the knife and it slipped against my thumb. A drop of blood oozed from the wound.

His face seemed to tighten as if he strained against something internally. All at once the tray was tossed from my lap, some of the contents ending up on the bed and others landing on the floor noisily, and I found my entire body below his as he studied my injured thumb.

“Can I eat you?” he asked.

I whimpered, twisting below him.

“No?” I said.

“You smell like honey,” he said. “It’s confusing.”

“I’m your servant, Do Kyungsoo,” I said. “You’ve been sick. This is a hallucination.”

“But it seems that you’re sick, too,” he said while looking down at my face. “Just as sick as me. I wondered from the time I met you if you might also be cursed to the same sickness, but it’s only certain now.”

“I only became sick in the last day,” I said.

He turned my injured thumb this way and that to see the drop of blood. He sniffed the air around it.

“It’s just a little blood, Jongin,” I said. “I’ll wipe it off.”

I moved underneath him, but he placed his free hand on my forehead.

“You’re feverish,” he said.

“I’ve been slightly unwell since last night,” I said.

“Let me make it better,” he said, shifting over me.

My fever seemed to intensify as he moved over me. Despite my fears and education, I nodded yes.

Looking into my eyes, just inches above me, he grabbed my injured thumb and took it into his mouth. He sucked the blood from my finger in a way that even I could see was obscene.

Involuntarily I bucked beneath him, feeling a need I could not name.

It seemed to spur on his movements. He dropped my hand, the thumb now clean of blood, and lowered his face to the area where my neck met my right shoulder.

Just as I was about to beg him to do anything possible to relieve the fever that he seemed responsible for intensifying, the door to the bedroom burst open and Tao, the servant who mainly worked upstairs ran in.

Wordlessly, he pulled Jongin away from me, tossing him to the floor as if he were an animal that had escaped from the barn and was intent on mauling one of his master’s heirs.

Jongin sat on the floor, stunned, and I panted on the bed. I was somewhat relieved to have the scene broken up, but was left with an unsatisfied longing in my heart and body.

Tao took me by the arm and helped me from the bed.

“I should gather the items from the tray,” I said.

“I’ll get them later. Come with me,” he said, leading me from the room.

Looking back, I saw Jongin sitting on the floor looking like one of his poodles when chastised for playing too roughly.

Tao pulled me down the stairs by my shirtsleeve until we reached the kitchens. I wished to detach myself from him, but was concerned that I’d be yelled at.

He released me only when I was in the kitchen.

“I’ll have the child brought to you,” he said. “Assist with cooking.”

“He’s a brusque one, isn’t he?” said one of the younger cooks to the older woman helping her wash a great quantity of rice.

“Yet he’s paid the best of all of us,” said the other.

I perked up, trying to hear more, but it was then that Kim Junmyeon brought a sleepy Taerin to me.

I fashioned a holder for Taerin with the help of a serving woman so that she might sleep against my back as I worked and stay out of the fire, and set myself to making soybean stew for tonight’s dinner. It wasn’t a fancy preparation by any means, but I hoped that the recipe would please my master and make him recover quickly from his illness.

While preparing the food, I set about bringing myself back down to earth. I had begun to imagine that my master had held me in high regard and I occupied a special place in his heart. It was a dangerous idea to entertain, one that would surely only bring heartbreak when he inevitably selected someone from his own class as a partner in love. 

“You, a favorite of Lord Kim of the Nyeong Kim clan? You’re a fool,” I told myself. “Oh Sehun is no doubt a shining god and meanwhile you’re a small, insignificant, penniless orphan with a child strapped to your back. Look down and never look up again.”

I finished the stew as the visitors arrived at Thornfield. My little talk to myself helped prepare me for what was to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: dubious consent due to consumption of a mind-altering substance.

Within the drawing room after dinner I attempted to blend into the shadows, but Taerin had other plans.

“Why does he allow the child to carry on like that?” asked Oh Sehun’s mother of Lord Lee, a man of great wealth due to culture technology.

“When I was a child, I made a fuss in situations like this so you’d fire my caretakers,” said Oh Sehun. “Dreadful lot, all of them. Perhaps the young thing is sending a request to Lord Kim despite being deficient in speech.”

I turned away with Taerin, attempting to soothe her, as I had not yet received permission from Lord Kim to leave the party and put her to bed.

“He’s a strange thing, isn’t he?” Oh Sehun asked himself quietly. “He certainly bears the look of a peasant, and a dull one at that.”

How I could hear the quiet musings of my master’s rumored paramour over the noise of the party and Taerin’s wails went unquestioned in the moment as I was occupied with caring for the toddler.

I had no intention of being the center of attention at a fashionable party. After I received word that I was to attend with Taerin, I stayed dressed in my usual clothes and entered the drawing room as the main group still enjoyed dinner so I wouldn’t need to make an entrance. I took a seat with the child in a dark corner and proceeded to tell the story of Little Red Riding Hood with some finger puppets I had devised, a diversion that would usually keep her entertained for hours.

By the time the group entered the drawing room, Taerin was bored of the third version of the story and was paying me back for the incomplete sleep she received while strapped to my back as I cooked. The child was tired.

At last, conversation broke and I saw an opportunity to seek permission to leave from Jongin. Just as I stood to cross the room, Oh Sehun moved toward the center, drawing attention to himself.

“Should we not have some dancing?” he said. “A bit of amusement for the ladies?”

The other members of the group of ten clapped in anticipation of the show.

When a gentleman named Sir Zhang from Hunan sat at the pianoforte, Taerin’s wails amplified. I crossed the room to Jongin, but he was in deep conversation with Oh Sehun at the moment.

I waited to beg leave. In the meantime, the noise of the party seemed to come at me in strange ways with some being too loud and others seemingly too quiet until I focused in on them. It was like using opera glasses to focus on a distant shore, an altogether strange experience. In one corner I heard Lord Lee quietly plotting a new venture with his son, who I believe was called Taemin. To my side, Sir Zhang Yixing hummed a few bars while dancing his fingers over the keys of the pianoforte.

Behind me, Oh Sehun’s mother conversed quietly with someone who seemed to be bringing her a requested item.

“This is the sleeping draught?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” said the voice of a woman I didn’t recognize. “Spirits and laudanum, it will put you to sleep in no time tonight.”

I bounced Taerin and hoped Jongin would look up from his conversation soon.

Mrs. Oh reentered the room bearing a tray.

“Lord Kim, as a mother to several fine children, I see fit to offer my favorite draught for soothing babies since it seems your caretaker knows of no way to calm the child,” she said, presenting the small glass.

Jongin looked up and then looked at me blankly, as if we had no fellowship and did not know each other at all.

“Thank you, Mrs. Oh, your expertise is much appreciated,” he said.

Feeling doomed to either causing a scene or drugging Taerin, I took the glass with dread. The concoction was not unknown as a sleeping aid, but even then it was considered dangerous for small children and some full-grown men had died from consuming too much of the mixture too regularly.

The music started, giving me a chance to act. I turned away briefly, tipping the contents of the glass down my own throat. I offered Taerin my arm on which to chew so she might stay quiet until I could beg leave from Jongin. I'd end up bruised and half-punctured, but the situation was becoming quite desperate.

The crowd was silent when I turned around, but they were not focused on me.

In the center of the room, Jongin and Oh Sehun began to dance.

My stomach felt empty and cold as I saw the two beautiful men move in time. Perfectly matched as the horses that draw fine carriages and no less fluid in their movements, they thrilled the small crowd. I had no idea if it was caused by the sleeping drug that I consumed or my overflowing emotions, but my heart squeezed and then seemed to beat too hard to put itself back in rhythm.

The denouement came as the piano quieted and the two men met in the middle of the room, each placing their arm on the other’s neck while looking into his eyes and turning in a circle.

It was settled. My master was not mine. He had never been mine, never would be, and I was a pathetic fool. My face heated up, imagining myself in a similar embrace with him while at the same time trying to snuff out any hope of it happening in reality.

The crowd clapped as the performance ended, and the full effects of the drug hit me. I gathered Taerin to my chest and slipped out the door of the drawing room, neglecting the need to request permission to leave from Lord Kim.

I unsteadily climbed the stairs to the nursery, clinging to the child hard for fear I might drop her.

On the second flight of stairs, Jongin caught me by the arm, not at all out of breath despite covering so much distance so quickly. I flinched, my forearm in pain due to Taerin’s ministrations.

“You left the party without saying goodbye,” he said. “And without coming to talk to me.”

I lowered my eyes, unsure of what to say.

“And your arm. Have you been permitting the child to chew on you?” he asked angrily.

“Forgive me, I knew of no other way to calm her,” I said. “I'm sorry for being deficient in my capacity as caretaker.”

“That's not it,” he said, running his fingers over the marks. “I should not have allowed you to suffer like that. You — all of the people in this house are my responsibility, and I failed you. I won't fail you in a time of need again.”

“You make a handsome pair with Mr. Oh,” I said, choosing the route of breaking my own heart.

“Do I?” he asked. “You think me handsome?”

“I did not…” I said, slumping a bit against the rail.

“What has happened to you?” he asked, his hand almost coming to rest on my forehead before he pulled it back. “It's not just your arm, is it? I’ll fetch a doctor, stay right here.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a bit sicker than when you last saw me, I’ll be better soon.”

“I failed to make you better,” he said. “In fact, I made you worse. This is my fault. I’m so sorry.”

I looked up at him as one looks to the heavens to pray. I thought of grabbing him by the collar and throwing him down the stairs or punching his broad chest until he cried out. Mostly, I wanted him. How? I could not fathom, but it consumed me all the same. I was famished and he seemed like the only food that could sate me.

“Your eyes,” he said, wonder entering his voice.

“They’re large, I know,” I said.

“That’s not it,” he said.

His jaw shifted for a moment and then set.

“Give me the child,” he said. “You’re unwell, so I’ll put her to bed.”

Half out of my mind, now facing a spiking fever, and ignoring all rules of master-servant protocol, I handed Taerin to Lord Kim. She latched onto him easily and I could see that he had a good hold on her.

“Can you make it to your room without aid?” he asked.

I nodded yes.

“Goodnight, my—” he said as Taerin shifted and began to sniffle. 

I stumbled up the last few stairs and down the hall to my room.

In the midst of my drugged confusion and arousal, I crawled into my bed. I chewed on my goose feather pillow to avoid crying out and giving in to the temptation to pleasure myself, a sin we were warned against at Lowood School. I prayed that sleep would claim me and soothe the painful itch that prevented all rational thoughts.

Yet a child's dose of alcohol and laudanum was not enough to bring on slumber. I felt unmoored from reason and subjected to the full force of my deepest longings. I bent my knees to lift my back end from the bed, desperate to avoid stimulation while also needing it to the point of tears. While shifting as I sobbed, my nipples dragged on the material of my shirt, setting off a wave of tremors that broke down the last of my barriers.

I leaned to the sides of the bed and yanked the curtains to shield me from view in the event someone came in to tend the fire or check on the source of the noise. Now within darkness I hastily unfastened my trousers, reasoning that if I remained partially clothed, the act I was about to perform for the first time could perhaps be forgotten more quickly. Forgotten by me or by god I did not know.

Then I lowered my undergarments, exposing myself to the cold. Shivers — from the cold, the sedative I had consumed to protect my charge, and the state in which I had suffered for a day now — overtook my body.

My hand reached back to feel my tightly puckered hole, rubbing over the entrance and gathering the slick substance that had begun to leak out spontaneously when the hot feeling had invaded my body. I was unsure of what I wanted and what things might bring me pleasure. It seemed that my hole begged for stimulation, but it also seemed impossible to do anything beyond stroking the outside, tight as it was.

Now covered in the slick liquid, my hand traveled down to my sack, lifted tight to my body in arousal and finally to my member, now painfully hard and engorged. With no small bit of wonder I grasped the flesh and began to stroke it experimentally.

It was something. Relief tinged with a sick feeling in my stomach took over my body as I grasped a bit harder and stroked faster, chasing what, I was unsure. I felt close to death a few times and slowed my pace, the sensation akin to when I jumped from the rafters of a barn at Lowood into a pile of hay; I broke my arm then and vowed to attempt flight no more.

My sobs intensified as the heat in my body doubled and then grew thrice. I worried that I might combust in the dark bed, only to be found partially consumed by flames yet with the most intimate areas still visible and untouched by fire thanks to liquid pouring forth from my body even in death. I swore I heard my bullying older cousins on the other side of the curtains, sneering at my weakness and perversion.

“Help,” I whimpered into my pillow.

It was then that I thought I heard the click of nails on the stone floor of my room as if a dog had entered. I halted my movements and crouched low. Despite my best efforts, my member dragged on the fine sheets of my bed, eliciting a cry that not even my pillow could muffle. Smothered by myself in my own pillow, the edges of my vision turned hazy in the blackness of night.

The clicking seemed to stop, but all at once the curtains at the back of my bed flew open. I was certain death or worse, humiliation, was before me. I grasped my pillow and willed our creator to take me.

Instead, a tongue began to lick my backside. In the moment I thought I saw the black wolf from the Han in the darkness, its long, flat tongue licking each cheek in a manner that was reassuring, strange as that sounds given the circumstances. I began to shake, certain that I'd gone mad.

It was only when hands — human hands — grasped my cheeks and gently spread them that I knew I could not have been visited by a wolf. Aided by the motion, my hole opened just enough to allow slick to trickle out freely. Viscous, it slowly ran down until it reached my sack, causing me to shudder.

I felt what could only be a nose against my flesh. It heaved in a great quantity of air as it pressed into the area below my hole. Next a mouth, delightfully warm, wrapped around my balls and suckled the slick fluid that had dripped down. There was a harsh exhale when they were released.

Uncertain if I was in a dream or dreamlike state of waking I gave myself over to pleasure and once again grasped my member, determined to find relief at last. The hand returned to my cheeks and spread them once more. A mouth, that gloriously soft and warm mouth, covered my entrance and began to suck up the fluid.

Unused to the sensation and sure that such activities were forbidden by the laws of man, god, or hygiene, I attempted to shuffle up the bed despite my enjoyment. A firm hand on my thigh halted my movements and I succumbed to the pleasure. The hands greedily spread me further and I felt the pucker soften as I relaxed and allowed myself to enjoy what I thought was a dream. Slick dribbled down my body, wetting my thighs down to my knees. One hand removed itself and rubbed the slick into my inner thighs, spreading them apart.

It was then that the tongue passed directly over my hole, causing me to quake and my back to arch down to the bed reflexively. It did not stop, nor did I want it to. The tongue of my savior eased into my hole little by little, loosening the muscle and opening me. For what purpose I did not know. The slight strain of the stretch felt like scratching an itch after a long time and I redoubled my strokes on my member, at last seeking flight again.

All at once the motion stopped as my savior pulled back, presumably to view their work. Open, hole raw and swollen from the sudden intrusion, covered in slick, and trembling, I must have been quite a sight. I whimpered for the treatment to continue, so close to my final ascent.

"Please," I heaved. "Please, please, master, alpha, god."

I do not know where the words that tumbled out of my mouth came from in that moment, so out of my mind and seeking release that it felt like I was speaking in tongues.

My savior complied and used their lips to suck at my hole, their tongue entering me again and again, rhythmically. I offered no resistance aside from that of my now swollen rim. My body began to quake, but I was unsure of how to let go.

"Please," I groaned, not even certain of what to request.

A large hand wrapped around my own, dwarfing it, and helping me to stroke my member more firmly. The sensation of someone helping me to pleasure myself set loose an emotional tidal wave. Unable to contain the end any longer I wailed into my pillow as spurts of seed shot forth from me. Once I recovered from the shock of my first orgasm, I looked around nervously for my savior, but there was no sign of them. Exhausted on every level, I collapsed into the wet bedsheets.

In the morning when I woke, I was dressed in clean bedclothes, sleeping in a freshly made bed. The fever had broken temporarily and my arm had healed.


	7. Chapter 7

I felt the next day as though I were swimming through water, my body and brain completely disconnected from reality.

I stumbled into the nursery after rising late to find that Taerin was already awake, standing in her crib, waiting patiently for my arrival. Jongin had managed to dress her for bed quite competently, I was relieved to discover, and she ate her breakfast with gusto.

As we left the kitchen to return to the nursery, Kim Junmyeon stopped me on the stairs.

“Tonight...you should be in the drawing room at 7 for an announcement,” he said, his eyes seeming to search mine for some reason.

“I am in the drawing room every night,” I said. 

“But this night you should absolutely be there, so you hear the news yourself,” he said.

Have you ever seen the color drain from a face? I’m not sure that I have, but I felt the sensation in that moment, all life energy seeming to rush down until it pooled somewhere below my neck.

I knew what was to come. I absolutely knew it and I had no way to stop it.

When Jongin raised the glass that night to toast his upcoming marriage to Oh Sehun, his eyes seemed to look all around the room, blessing everyone but me with a blinding smile.

I couldn’t have him, but the fact that he couldn’t even spare me a glance somehow hurt more. A lifetime of happiness was too much to ask, but a look? A grin? In this room of important people, I was less than nothing, even the books that lined the walls were taken down and consulted from time to time. 

I handed Taerin off to Kim Junmyeon, who asked no questions, presumably aware of the state of my heart even before I was.

I left the drawing room, sliding the door behind me quietly so I might slip away to my room using the stairs that allowed one to move between the kitchen and upper floors without much notice. My heart raced and my face contorted to hold in the uncharacteristic wail of grief that demanded to escape.

I paused to collect myself before heading to the stairs.

At that moment, I heard the door start to slide open once more. Rather than allow myself to be caught on the stairs and potentially seen, I darted back to a shady corner.

Someone stepped out and the door closed again.

I peeked over to see who had come out.

There he was. The groom-to-be. Lord Kim seemed to sniff the air before whipping his head in my direction. I gathered myself to the corner in hopes that he might be called back before spotting me.

I had no such luck.

He moved toward me, his prey.

"Why did you leave the party, Kyungsoo?" he asked.

"Don't you think it best that we revert to using family names and titles, sir," I said. "I wouldn't want your fiancé to feel uncomfortable."

He stood directly in front of me, looking down into my face.

"Why would he feel uncomfortable, Kyungsoo?" he asked.

"I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea and think that there is something going on," I said, "between us."

He moved microscopically closer.

"Is there something going on between us?" he asked.

I shook my head no and turned to the wall so he wouldn't see the devastation on my face, resigned at having to admit that my feelings were one-sided. I hoped he would leave and return to the party quickly.

The door opened again.

He crowded into the dark corner behind me, clearly hoping to evade detection like I did.

"He just stepped out a few minutes ago, but he must have gone elsewhere," said Sehun in the direction of the drawing room.

The door remained open. I shifted against Lord Kim.

Perhaps fearing that he might get caught crowding his servant into a dark corner, he placed two fingers over my mouth to signal that I should be quiet. I tried to shake him off me, hating how it increased the heat coursing through my body, and he moved closer, draping himself over my back and placing one hand on my hip to still me.

He leaned his head down to my neck, where my shirt had pulled away from my skin due to the angle, and drew in a slow, quiet breath. I shuddered against him at the feeling of his skin on mine and squirmed once more. He kept sniffing me and eventually dragged his front teeth over my neck gently.

My mouth opened in a silent gasp. His fingers slipped into the opening of my mouth.

The door finally shut and a window in my mind slid open. Instinct took over and I was no longer guided by the teachings of morality but by the longing in my body and soul.

I leaned my head down to draw his fingers further in my mouth. Mouth slack, I let them run up my tongue. He began to withdraw his fingers, but I closed my lips and sucked them in.

He shifted behind me and began thrusting his fingers in gently and exploring my mouth with them.

"Soft and warm," he said into my hair. "Just as I've imagined."

He withdrew his fingers momentarily to stroke my lips.

"I always wondered what these lips would feel like if I pinched them between my fingers and slid inside of them," he said, thrusting back into my mouth again.

I dropped my head back onto his shoulder as he shifted his hand from my hip to my lower stomach. He pressed down to make me collapse back into him.

"I'm going to miss you, Kyungsoo," he said. "No doubt Sehun will insist that Taerin is sent to a school like Lowood so we can live in peace."

I whimpered around his fingers, dreading the idea of parting from my master and little Taerin, who was even younger than me when I was sent to Lowood.

"Without Taerin here, you'll have to leave, too," he said, directing me back against his body.

I sucked the saliva from his fingers and let them fall from my mouth. I turned to him. His eyes seemed to glow red in the darkness, but how? I could not fathom and the heat in my brain did not allow me to understand why.

"Master," I whispered, "let me stay. Let us stay."

"I'll have no choice in the matter," he said, "if I am to please my new husband."

"Does it please you?" I asked.

He brought his hand to hold my face and stroked his thumb over my lower lip, pulling it this way and that and watching as it popped back into place.

"Immensely," he said.

I felt a tear begin to roll down my face. I sought to turn away, but now two hands cradled my head as he watched me cry silently.

Tears tracked over my face with some crossing my lips. He tipped my head back to see them despite the dark and then tilted his head down to lick the tears from my lips.

I gasped.

"Did you kiss me?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I was cleaning you up.”

He tilted his head again and continued to lick tears from my face, cleaning me like a mother cat would her kittens.

"You shouldn't cry," he said. "It creates poison that will burn your skin."

"That's not true," I said.

"Yes, it is."

"I'll be gone soon," I said.

He tilted my chin up to keep licking at tears that had slid below my jaw.

"Even if you're not beside me I'll still feel your pain," he said.

"If that's true you'd feel it now," I said, unable to hold in the depth of my despair.

He held my body to his chest and smoothed over my hair.

"I can. Why else did I feel that I must come to you right now?" he asked.

"You were looking for me?" I said.

"Yes, you called to me," he said, "not using words."

I wiped the remains of the tears from my face.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I said. “I’ll leave you to your guests and interrupt the party no more.”

I walked toward the stairs, but he swiftly followed and pinned me against the double doors to the drawing room. 

“Sir?” I said.

“You called again, even louder this time,” he said.

His hands were against my shoulders, pressing my back flush against the door. My stomach and lower half bowed out from the door uncomfortably due to the knobs that would have otherwise bruised my back. I shifted, attempting to express my discomfort despite finding myself unable to speak.

The movement resulted in my lower body pressing against his. We did not align perfectly due to a difference in height, but the sensation of some sort of pressure made my eyelids sink and my view turned hazy.

He looped a hand behind my back and slid it down over my buttocks to bring me away from the knobs. His other hand traveled down my arm until it found my own. There he placed his fingers between mine and clasped our hands together.

“You have to stay quiet or else they'll hear you,” he said.

I nodded.

“We wouldn't want them to think bad things about you. They don't know you like I do,” he said, lowering his face to my neck.

I shifted against him, concerned about the knobs despite his hand protecting me. The fabric of my trousers and firmness of the leg he had placed between mine increased the pressure on my groin.

I breathed out as quietly as I could, right against his ear.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered.

“What?” I asked shakily as he directed my body against his once more.

“The need for flames that will consume you until you are no more,” he said.

“I begin to suspect you're a pyromaniac,” I said.

“Since you've entered this house I've wondered the same,” he said.

“What's the cure for the illness?” I asked, now shifting against him, chasing my own pleasure.

“I haven't the slightest clue,” he said, licking my neck.

I shuddered at the feeling of his tongue. I remembered my dream — was it a dream? — the night before and bucked harder into him.

He looked up from my neck and into my eyes. Gently, he knocked our foreheads together and rocked back against me.

I whimpered, wanting more.

The sound seemed to drive him into a fury. He frantically undid half the buttons on my shirt and pulled it at the neck with one hand to inadvertently trap my arms behind me while revealing my chest. He wasted no time and began to suck at my right nipple, running his tongue and teeth over it until I was almost hysterical.

I leaned back in hopes of gaining leverage to push our bodies over the edge, adding to the friction between our lower halves.

He sensed my distress and guided my right thigh up and over his own to increase the amount of contact between us. I made a move to climb him on the other side and he brought both hands down to help me loop my legs over his own and cross them behind his back.

Still restrained by my shirt, I relied on Jongin to hold me and guide me against his body. I longed to be free. I whined in frustration.

“Let me touch you,” I whispered while tugging at the shirt.

He nodded and lifted me from the door. I rested against his chest, pulling my arms free at last to run my fingers through his hair. I thumbed at the silver growing at his temples.

“Put me down, old man, I don’t want to be your cause of death,” I said.

“What if I want you to be the thing that ends me?” he asked, rocking into me hard enough that the door rattled behind me.

“We shouldn’t,” I said before expelling all the air in my lungs, thinking of the people on the other side of the door.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he said with a look of sadness.

He disentangled my legs from him and set me down. Silently, he turned to the stairs and climbed them with a silent deliberateness, never looking back at me.

I watched him turn the corner and head up another flight, my mouth agape. His footfalls grew more and more distant.

I panicked, realizing myself to be at a turning point in my life. I grabbed the banister and ran up after him, trying to take the stairs two at a time but mostly stumbling.

I caught his arm at the turn to the third floor. He did not expect me, and he fell on the landing as he caught me when I once again stumbled forward.

There, in his arms and between his legs on the third floor landing of Thornfield, I broke all rules of propriety and class and culture. 

Reader, I kissed him. It was a simple kiss, merely two sets of lips meeting and pressing together in the way children kiss a grandparent or favorite doll.

It started as a simple kiss, that is. Then his right hand came up to hold my jaw just as his lips sucked on my bottom lip. I shifted against him, ignoring how my knees knocked against the floor and focusing instead on lining up our bodies to achieve mutual pleasure. I rocked down repeatedly, never quite getting enough.

“Jongin, I need–” I said.

“I can't do that,” he said.

“How do you know what I'm asking for?” I asked while huffing lightly.

“Because I need it, too,” he said. “But not now.”

“Jongin, please,” I said. “Take care of it.”

He bucked up into me.

“Where?” he asked.

I guided his free hand to the back of my trousers, now damp.

“Do it,” I rasped.

“I can't—I won't—please understand,” he said, “I can't right now.”

I felt tears overcoming me as I bounced in his lap with frustration.

I snuck my own hand into my trousers, pulling them down to expose myself to the cool air of the hallway, unheated by fires. I drew two fingers down to my hole, now seeming to release liquid. I had never been so bold in my life, but I had no choice but to act on my desires.

He pinned me to him more closely and slipped his fingers next to mine, massaging my rim and teasing the entrance but never pressing in.

Our lips slid against each other, sucking and nibbling.

A moonbeam fell through the windows, casting light across the stairs. Jongin shuddered against me.

“Please,” I rasped.

“You're too innocent,” he said against my ear, with difficulty.

“Then teach me,” I threw back.

He brushed my hand away from my entrance and looked at me seriously.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asked.

“No, not before last night,” I said.

A door opened downstairs, signaling that someone might soon find us. He yanked my trousers up and scooped me into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this in nine months, sorry, but the reason was because I was fighting with myself about the plot. I've come to terms with the fact that it's going to be porn with a side of porn. If you enjoy gothic romance porn, stay tuned (but expect more blue balling bc it's still a gothic romance!)
> 
> Many thanks to [indigomini](http://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini) for beta-ing this chapter and listening to me cry over my writing woes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is based on 19th-century gothic romances, which I don't think have ever been heralded as depicting super healthy, modern relationships. I started writing this because I wondered what a Jane Eyre x EXO x Wolf AU would be like, and I decided to stick with all the tropes, including first-person narration, dated words to describe junk/sex, and a relationship that's not really something I'd want for readers to experience in real life. In the final chapters, there's a whole lot of smut including [historical] medical kinks, a good dose of angst, brutal [physical] punishment from the universe, and a happy ending. I think there's room for this kind of story and these themes, but if it's not for you, that's ok.
> 
> If you'd like to read almost the exact opposite of this fic, I'm writing [The Knot Box®](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12319641/chapters/28009392) about alpha Kyungsoo and omega Jongin working at a present-day rut supply delivery company together. It's modern to the point of being inspired by the daily headlines.
> 
> Many thanks to [indigomini](http://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini) for reading this and reassuring me that it's trashy in the right way. lol

I clung to Jongin as he passed through the second floor of the manor.

He paused outside his bedroom door.

“It’s best in here,” he said to himself before entering.

Jongin walked to the edge of the bed and then placed one knee on it so he could lay me in the middle.

He stumbled away, ending up near the door, and slowly turned the lock.

I anticipated that he would come to me on the bed, but he took a seat in a chair by the fire, his eyes never leaving mine.

Awkwardly squirming, concerned that I was dirtying his bed, I asked, “Will you not touch me?”

He shifted in the chair, placing his hands on the arms. Jongin shook his head no.

“I'm too pained to sleep, master,” I said.

“You're not to call me master,” he said. “Such distinctions are an abomination.”

“But the way you leave me isn't?” I asked, starting to lose my patience. “You do this thing to me, make me hotter, and then you send me to bed as if it's nothing? I ache. I can't understand the mechanics of the phenomenon, but I know you must and if you don't help me, I swear you are no friend of mine.”

“I do understand the mechanics of it, enough of them at least,” he said, “which is why I refuse. I will not hurt you.”

“But I'm in pain now!” I said, sliding off the bed.

“Stay where you are,” he said, gripping the arms of the chair. “This is not like you!”

I yanked my trousers off fully, leaving my shirt on as I advanced on him. Liquid lubricated my upper thighs, which slid against each other satisfyingly.

“Who are you to say who and what I am?” I asked. I stood over him pulling at my shirt in frustration. “Remove your arms.”

He slowly lowered his hands from the arms of the chair, sliding his hands under his thighs. I moved forward and straddled the chair, placing my legs over its arms so my backside hovered in the air above his lap.

“Will you still refuse to satisfy me?” I asked.

He looked into my eyes. They shifted down to my shirt. He began to carefully unbutton it, slowly opening it to reveal more of my body, even more than he had seen downstairs. He exhaled a shuddering breath as he ran his hands over my chest to free it at last.

I was inches from his lap, completely nude, my member occasionally dipping to drag along the front of his fine shirt before becoming completely erect again.

I wrapped an arm around his neck to steady myself and moved the other hand to my aching hole.

“I've never met one of your type,” he said. “You have to understand that I too am at a loss.”

“We can learn together,” I said as my first finger breached the aching ring of muscle.

“Does it feel…?” he asked.

“It feels good,” I said. “I'm sorry if I stain your clothes with this liquid.”

“I should allow you privacy,” he said as his eyes traced the faint outlines of my ribs, once prominent while I was at Lowood, but now softened thanks to the vastly better conditions at Thornfield.

“I want nothing of the sort,” I said while gently laying my face on his clothed chest.

“Are you like this each time?” he asked.

“Each time?” I said.

“I forget that you have just come of age,” he said. “This must be the first time you…”

“You are my first everything,” I said, searching his eyes for the meaning of his questions.

He looked lost, his eyes suddenly tired.

“The thought of anyone else touching you, seeing you, tasting you drives me to madness,” he said. “I sometimes fear that someone will breach the walls of this manor and steal your innocence while I sleep just a room away.”

He held my head between his palms, his fingers tangled in my hair, applying a pleasant pressure to my throbbing skull.

“It drives me to madness,” he said. “I must have you, but I mustn't. I thought I could complete the agreement with the Oh family and go forward with the marriage as planned for so many years. But I can't resist your constant calling to me.”

“There's no need to resist,” I said.

“You're incapable of making a rational choice right now,” he said. “Free will does not exist under these circumstances.”

“These circumstances?” I asked. “A heat, a desire washes over me so the longing of my body rules my mind unsound? I think not.”

I licked my lips, desperate to kiss him but needing to prove my point.

“I am the same rational being I was in the library all those nights ago, but the limits on my behavior have lifted,” I said.

“Would you behave like this without the hot feelings?” he asked.

“Only in my most shocking daydreams,” I said, the words tumbling out. “But the wish would be there all the same.”

He ran his hands through his hair.

“When I first saw you, before you even came to this house-” he said.

“You saw me before I came to Thornfield?” I asked.

“Ahh, yes,” he said, “...your picture.”

I nodded.

“I felt a connection to you, but I thought it was merely of spiritual kinship, a sign we were to be good friends,” he said.

I drew close to his lips. 

“We _are_ good friends,” I said, shivering as the slick on my thighs began to cool and dry.

“Yes, _just_ friends,” he said, slumping in his chair, just one floor above his fiancé.

I gathered myself from the chair, temporarily stunned by the affirmation of our distance, holding back a wave of emotion and feeling entirely too naked. Mindlessly walking to the bed, I thought of grabbing my clothes, throwing them on, and departing from Thornfield forever.

Rather than passing by, I crawled on. I sat at the edge of the bed with my feet on the trunk at the foot of it.

Holding my voice steady, I said, “Given that we’re friends, you should have no qualms about using me for our mutual satisfaction.”

“That's not how this works,” he said from across the room.

I studied the quilt on the bed. 

“How do I know you are not possessed?” he asked. “That some witch or trickster does not inhabit your body to ruin you and me? That seems entirely like something they would do.”

I flopped back, leaving my legs bent. I didn't know why Lord Kim resisted when his eyes showed exactly what he wanted.

He got up and dragged his chair closer to the bed and then sat down on it again.

I looked down the bed at him steepling his fingers over his face while looking bereft.

“Do you wish me to leave Thornfield?” I asked in a small voice. “I seem to cause you great consternation.”

“No!” he barked. “No, I--Taerin loves you. I can't imagine this cursed house without your presence now.”

I looked at the ceiling of the canopy over the bed. “I am sorry to impose on you so grossly, Lord Kim. That you would think I have acted in a way to suggest I was possessed tells me that my conduct has been unforgivable. I'm mortified,” I said. “When I think of the wrong I've done Oh Sehun…”

I covered myself with my hands and began to move off the bed.

Jongin leaned forward in his chair and placed one hand on my ankle.

“I have said many things tonight which I hope you will forgive,” he said, stroking the skin absentmindedly. 

My back arched slightly. “Don't touch me unless you plan to _touch me_ ,” I said.

He pulled back at first, as if burned.

I stirred to get off the bed again and he grabbed both of my ankles.

I arched further this time, feeling as though electricity was coursing through my body. 

He pulled my ankles apart so they rested on the trunk at some distance from each other, leaving my lower body exposed to him. He leaned forward and then sat back in his chair.

“I’ll settle for watching,” he said.

I opened my thighs wider so he might see everything, how my body responded to him.

My member jerked at the thought of him watching my swollen hole as it spasmed for want of being filled.

I felt down my thigh, drifting over my member, until I could spread my cheeks with one hand to show him my most intimate area.

The chair creaked as he sat back and adjusted his trousers, his hand roughly squeezing the front before dropping.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked, bolting from the chair suddenly. “Your bottom is coated in liquid, you must be dehydrated by now.”

“Yes,” I answered, again thinking of how I might stain his fine sheets, but wanting to draw him closer all the same.

He walked to the pitcher on his breakfast table and poured me a glass of water.

Jongin joined me on the bed and placed an arm under my neck so I might drink from the glass. I drank until the glass was dry and then wound my arms around his neck.

“I must put the glass down,” he said softly.

“Break it and then break me,” I said with a smile.

He leaned over to set the glass on the nightstand and then swung his leg over my body so he straddled me. I drew short breaths, anticipating.

“I'm not going to fuck you,” he said. “You're not even making sense now.”

I pushed him to the side so he was off me and shifted so both my feet rested on his thighs, giving him an even closer view.

I reached down, past my sack, and ran a finger over my hole, inserting one digit.

“May I adjust you?” he asked, his voice now raspy.

“Please,” I said as he placed my feet gently on his shoulders so I was folded and exposed to him.

He reached down to my rim, where liquid had collected, brushing his fingers through the mess before bringing them up to his mouth to suck.

He closed his eyes.

“You're welcome to more,” I said.

He leaned closer and nipped at my lips leaving my body awkwardly folded between us, limbs askew. I kissed him, opening my mouth so our tongues could meet and share the taste he so seemed to desire. I added another finger and moaned as the intensity of heat seemed to double due to my ministrations.

I shifted, trying to get deeper, whimpering, needing release.

He gently drew my fingers from my hole and directed them to his mouth. At the same time, he slid his index and middle finger firmly over my perineum before sliding them into me. I moved on them while watching as he sucked the slick liquid from my fingers with erotic relish.

“More,” I moaned. “I know you can, I know you can.”

He thrust harder and spread the fingers suddenly before slipping in a third. My rim stretched satisfyingly, but I needed more.

I groped at Jongin’s trousers, hoping to discover that he was as desperate as me. I seemed to find his member, but I was uncertain at first because the size seemed exaggerated. I attributed it to his undergarments.

He pulled my fingers from his mouth and directed my hand to my own member.

“You know how to stroke this, right?” he asked.

“More or less,” I said.

He placed my hand on it then closed his own larger hand over mine and helped me set a pace.

“When will you take me?” I asked, grinding down on his fingers.

“When you've learned all there is to know,” he said.

“Teach me now, right now,” I said.

“When I am certain of all there is to know,” he said, “then I can teach you.”

“Just do it,” I sighed.

“Did you feel me?” he asked.

“Yes…” I said.

“Do you really think you can fit it in?” he asked, spreading his fingers again.

I touched his clothed member again.

“Yes, yes,” I choked out as I began to speed my motions.

He thrust harder and my body finally began to feel satisfaction.

“You need to come, my darling,” he said, kissing me slowly while stroking me from without and within to extract pleasure. At the feel of his tongue on mine, my body shook violently and released, at last.

“Does your body not require release?” I asked. We ended up lying side by side, close enough that our noses touched when we turned to face each other.

“I do,” he said while laughing. “But that's something I can handle on my own.”

I cautiously moved my hand to the front of his trousers and unfastened the buckle at the top. I methodically unbuttoned the buttons running along the front enclosure and split the pants as much as the fabric would allow.

“May I?” I asked.

He nodded his head yes.

I slipped my hand into his undergarments to feel his member for the first time. Hot, hard, and thick, it curved perfectly in my hand, which couldn't close around it.

He directed my hand back out, confusingly, until it reached the release now drying on my stomach.

“Wet my dick with your cum,” he whispered while rubbing the nape of my neck.

I complied with his request, scooping it into my hand and then closing the hand around his member. Jerking it slowly, I struggled with the size, but wanted to make him feel good.

“You're so good,” he moaned. “So pretty and pure and tight, I want to ruin you so you'll never be able to tolerate another dick again.”

“Yours is the only one I've ever wanted,” I said, “even if it scares me.”

“But what if another one comes along that you want?” asked Jongin. “Will you beg for a fill from them, too?”

“There's no telling what I’ll do if you don't give me what I want, what I need,” I said, babbling. “Should I bend over the piano for Sir Zhang? Dance for Lord Lee in the drawing room after everyone else has gone to bed in hopes that he fills me despite his old age? Perhaps I should knock on the door of your own fiancé Oh Sehun and beg him to finish the job you started.”

Jongin’s dick hardened in my hand.

“Do you like that idea?” I asked. “To be cuckolded twice over?”

He frantically scrambled up and arranged me on all fours, directing my head down so I lay on the sheets while my backside was in the air. He held his member between my cheeks and roughly thrust so it slipped between them.

“Will you mount me?” I asked.

He held the head of his member at my entrance and pushed gently on it.

“There's no way,” he said. “Not without significant training.”

“Then train me,” I said.

“In time,” he said. “For now…” he continued his thrusting between my cheeks, the head of his member occasionally rubbing along my sack and my own arousal.

I squeezed my thighs together to put pressure on him, my hole twitching each time he slid across it.

“It feels so good,” I moaned, my sense of station and propriety completely gone. “Don't let me live without this. Don't make me beg for another man. Don't marry Oh Sehun, let me stay forever, I don't care about my status, just let me stay beside you.”

His member jerked then spilled between my legs, coating my thighs in a strangely plentiful amount of seed. It spilled over and over as Jongin thrust through it, the excess dripping down my legs and pooling on his bed.

I looked behind me as he seemed to scoop some up.

“I’ll put this in you now,” he said, “in hopes that it makes you feel better.”

How seed could make me feel better was unclear to me at the time, but I was so desperate for any part of him that he was willing to give that I merely lay my head down and perched my ass higher.

One hand spread my cheeks while he slipped two seed-covered fingers inside and thrust them in languidly before repeating the process.

I moaned at the feeling of my fever breaking at last.

“May I take you into my mouth?” he asked, his hands now free and on my hips.

“How do you mean?” I asked, somewhat scandalized.

“Turn over,” he said. I complied and soon found him hovering over my member. He stuffed three seed-covered fingers back into me and leaned down to take my member into his mouth.

I jolted at the sight of this beautiful man with his mouth on me.

“Oh god Jongin, don't stop,” I said, wiggling from overstimulation. “Please, anything, just don't stop.”

He paused for a moment to say something.

“Do you promise you'll stay with me always, no matter what the future holds? No matter who I am?” he asked before resuming his ministrations.

“Yes, god yes, of course,” I moaned. “How could I not love you and stay with you always?”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Yes, yes,” I said as his mouth and fingers drew another orgasm from my body.

I couldn't know then how wrong, how necessarily broken a promise could be.


End file.
